Let Go, Lay To Rest
by ALackOfArmour
Summary: "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." Elena's gotten good at surviving through the impossible, and the end of the world is no different. A little helping hand wouldn't be a bad thing, though.
1. Memories & Meetings

**_Title: _**_Let Go, Lay To Rest  
__**Rating: **__T for language, violence and gore.  
__**Summary: **__"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." Elena's gotten good at surviving through the impossible, and the end of the world is no different. A little helping hand wouldn't be a bad thing, though.  
__**Disclaimer:**__ I am in no way affiliated with AMC, The Walking Dead or its cast. I only own Elena.  
__**Author's Notes: **__Not really much to say here, if I'm honest! I just got hit with this idea and started writing and viola. This happened. I'd love to hear what you guys think about it. If you'd like some visual aids for some things, there are a couple of things linked on my profile._

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**1. Memories & Meetings**

_I laughed loudly, weaving through the trees of the forest. I heard my brother's laughter from behind me and it just spurred me on. I was determined not to lose this race. I had lost the one the day before and I had a reputation as the fastest Llewellyn to uphold, after all. There was no way I was going to let him win this time around. I pushed on further, ignoring the twigs that caught and tugged at my clothes. My laughter echoed in the sudden silence of the forest and I slowed to a stop, brows knitting together in confusion as I looked around._

_Something wasn't right. I could feel it immediately in my bones. The birds had stopped chirping, the forest animals had ceased to make any noise. My brother's laughter had faded away and I couldn't hear his footfalls. The only thing I could hear was my laboured breathing and the pounding of my heart. My head snapped around as I took a few steps back the way I had come. _

_"Daniel?" I whispered, but in the silence my voice seemed impossibly loud. "Danny?"_

_A branch snapped to my left and I spun around, eyes scouring the trees in search of my brother. I struggled to catch my breath, inhaling deeply through my nose only to gag at the sudden smell of death that seemed to permeate the air. The scent was stifling and I brought a hand up to cover my nose and mouth. I heard movement in the trees again and took a few hesitant steps towards the sound, swallowing down the nerves that bubbled forth._

_All of a sudden I was being tackled to the ground. I let out a surprised yelp, twisting as I struggled against the greedy hands the gripped at my flesh. I blinked when I saw Daniel was the one on top of me, about to roll my eyes at him and scold him for scaring me when I realised he wasn't the Daniel I knew. His skin was rotting, eyes white as he snapped his jaws at me. I renewed my struggling, kicking and pushing but I didn't want to hurt my little brother, despite the fact he seemed to have no qualms in hurting me._

_"Danny," I cried as his teeth got dangerously close to my neck, finally managing to kick him off of me. I scrambled to feet, a gun suddenly gripped tightly in my hands. I raised my arm automatically, feeling tears burn my eyes as I took careful aim at his head. "I'm so sorry, little brother. I'm so sorry," I whispered before pulling the trigger. _

_The shot rang out loud, echoing in the silence of the forest as my brother's body dropped to the ground. I sobbed, stumbling forward and collapsing to my knees by his lifeless form. Apologies spilled from my lips as I cradled him to me, my tears dripping down my cheeks as I grieved._

I bolted upright, a strangled sound escaping my throat. I looked around wildly, sighing in relief when I realised I hadn't woken any of the others I was with. I touched my cheeks, unsurprised when I found them to be damp with tears. I sniffled quietly, scrubbing at my cheeks to rid them of tears. When I decided I was composed enough, I quietly stood and dressed in my customary plain grey tank top, khaki shorts, sleeveless leather jacket and worn hiking boots.

After a moment's hesitation, I silently packed my things. I took some food and water from the store, making sure I only took what I needed and no more than the group could do without. My knife was tucked into my belt, followed by a glock pistol. I had no qualms taking ammo for the gun, knowing the ammo there was mine originally anyway. I left the sleeping bag neatly folded in a corner of the room we had crashed in. I snatched up the quiver which contained my bow and arrows, shouldering it before slinging my pack on my back too.

I looked around the group of sleeping people in the room. I had been with them for nearly two weeks. It was the longest I had been with a group since I had lost Danny. I knew they wouldn't be surprised when they woke to see me gone. I had told them upon joining them that I wouldn't stay long, and when I left I wouldn't say goodbyes. Goodbyes were too hard. It was easier to leave in the quiet of dawn before anyone else was up.

I silently wished them all the best of luck before turning and leaving the room, quietly exiting the building. I sighed when I felt the already humid air settle thick around me, but I didn't let that bother me. Despite having lived across the pond in Wales in the UK for most of my life, I had lived in Georgia long enough to have adjusted to the unbearable heat during the summer. I started walking in a random direction, not really paying much attention to which way I was going.

My footsteps made almost no noise on the road. I had taught myself to be as silent as possible; noise could sometimes be the decider between life and death in this world, now. I had always been good at being quiet when I needed to be, and I had only gotten better at it after the world had gone to shit.

I kept walking down the road for a few hours, only stopping for a few minutes here and there when the heat became a little too much. By noon, I was covered in sweat and my stomach was growling, demanding food. I stopped long enough to eat half of a tin of pears and take a swing of water, but then I was off again.

I didn't really know where I was heading. I never did when I took off; I just went. After Danny's death, staying with the same group for longer than a few weeks was too hard. I refused to get attached to anybody again. Getting attached was just a sure fire way to get hurt, after all. Everyone was living on borrowed time these days and there was no point in denying it. The remaining survivors were dropping left and right, reducing the human race to small pockets hidden away in corners of whatever abandoned building was safe enough for the night.

I hadn't come across any Walkers during my walk, but that didn't surprise me. Empty roads weren't usually populated with the reanimated corpses, I had found. Highways and the like almost always were, but roads like the one I was on were usually pretty quiet. I wanted to fill the silence with humming, but I knew better than to make any unnecessary noise.

I only stopped when I heard something on the road. It sounded oddly like a horse trotting down the road, but that was impossible. Why the hell would there be a horse in the middle of the road? I frowned to myself, turning and peering down the road. I could see in the distance a lumbering shape moving slowly towards me through the waves of heat that rose up from the ground. My frown deepened but after a moment, I scrambled off of the road and hid in the shadow of the trees surrounding the road.

I didn't dare to go too deep into the forest, afraid of whatever Walkers or memories that might jump out at me. As the sound of the horse, no matter how impossible, got closer, I pulled out my bow and a single arrow from the quiver on my back. I nocked the arrow and raised my bow, preparing myself for whatever was coming down the road.

I couldn't stop myself from making a surprised noise in the back of my throat as I realised I was looking at a man in a Sheriff's uniform riding a horse down the road, but I managed to keep the noise quiet. I lowered my bow slightly, watching as he came into my view better. My eyes were instantly drawn to the bag on his back. It was easy to see he was carrying guns with him and I pursed my lips upon seeing them.

I debated on making my presence known for a moment but it seemed the Universe decided to make that call for me. I heard the unmistakable noise of a Walker groaning behind me and instantly stumbled out onto the road, spinning as the corpse lunged. I swore loudly, ducking under it's grabbing arms before spinning around. The Walker was momentarily confused as to where it's meal had gone, but it was long enough for me to raise my bow and shoot it in the head. The Walker dropped and I yanked my arrow out of it's head, wiping it clean on the Walker's ripped shirt before nocking it again.

I lifted my gaze to see the Sheriff staring down at me, his expression a mixture of surprise and wariness. I swallowed quietly, stepping neatly over the dead Walker as I peered up at him. He was clean shaven. Clean seemed to be the word to describe him, really. His clothes were spotless, as was his skin. His hair was brown from the little I could see of it; he had a hat perched on his head. His eyes, blue and bright, met mine as he frowned down at me. I was surprised to see the concern now on his features.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning down a little.

I nodded once, eyeing him with distrust. While I knew that people could still be decent these days from my own run-ins with groups, I was also painfully aware that there were people around that would shoot you in the head just for the food in your pack. While the Sheriff had given me no reason to distrust him yet, he had given me no reason to trust him, either. Being distrustful was generally safer, so I stuck with that.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said after a moment, seeming to sense my distrust.

I snorted. "That's what everybody says," I replied, Welsh accent thick.

The man nodded a little at that. "That's probably true," he agreed. "But it doesn't mean I don't mean it."

I tilted my head to the side, lowering my bow just a little. "Where'd you get the horse?" I asked abruptly, wanting to change the subject.

"A house I went passed a few miles back," he admitted. "The owners didn't really look like they'd miss it."

"Walkers?" I questioned, bow lowering just a little more.

"No," the Sheriff denied, shaking his head slightly. "They were just dead. I think… I think they killed themselves."

I nodded to myself. There had been a rash of suicides after the outbreak. A lot of people thought death would be a better option than living in this hell. I couldn't blame them; I'd considered it myself after my brother died. It was only the fact that I knew that wasn't what he wanted that had stopped me from going through with it.

"What you doing out here?" I pressed.

"I'm heading to the rescue centre in Atlanta," he declared. "My family should be there."

I blinked at him before snorting again. "You're crazy," I said bluntly. "Atlanta was overrun by Walkers weeks ago."

"You're wrong," he replied firmly, shaking his head.

"Believe whatever you want," I said with a shrug. "Atlanta's overrun. You go into the city and you're gonna get ripped to shreds by Walkers. Go check it out for yourself if you wanna; it's your life, not mine."

Maybe I was being a little harsh, but if this idiot was going to go into the city I figured he should at least have some warning what it was like. I'd been in Atlanta just three weeks ago and it wasn't pretty. I had barely gotten out alive. I could have put it a bit nicer, sure, but there wasn't time for niceties anymore. There wasn't much time for anything anymore, if I was being honest.

The guy just stared at me so I gave another shrug and took back off down the road. I was pretty sure if he was going to hurt me he would have done it by now, but I kept my bow at the ready anyway, just in case. You could never be too careful these days.

I had barely gone two feet when I heard the horse trotting alongside me. I cast a sideways glance at the Sheriff but said nothing. I returned my gaze to look straight ahead, ignoring the burn of his eyes on me. We made our way in silence for a few moments before he relented.

"If you're so sure about Atlanta being overrun, why are you heading towards it?" he pressed, clearly unwilling to believe what I had said about Atlanta.

I stopped abruptly, jutting out my hip and planting my hand on it as I glowered up at the Sheriff. "Look, I _know _Atlanta is overrun. I was in the city a few weeks ago and I barely got out of there alive. You go in on a horse and draw attention to yourself and you're gonna get killed." I paused before adding, "And I'm not heading towards Atlanta specifically. I'm just… wandering."

The guy seemed content to ignore my insistence that Atlanta was overrun and instead asked, "On your own? Is that safe?"

I shot him a look, arching an eyebrow. "You're alone," I pointed out.

"I have guns," he shot back readily.

"Guns aren't safe," I said in a sing-song voice. "They're too loud; you let off a shot you're basically ringing a dinner bell for any Walker within a mile radius. _I _have knives, and a bow and arrow, as well as a gun just in case. And you can always reuse arrows for your bow, or make new ones, so you never really run out of ammo like you do with a gun.

"You seem to know a lot about this sort of thing," the Sheriff noted, eyeing me with something similar to respect.

I shrugged a little, starting off down the road again. "You learn to pick up this sort of stuff pretty quick," I admitted. "If you don't, you don't last long." I sighed heavily, tugging a hand through my dark, damp hair. "You really think your family are in Atlanta?"

The Sheriff nodded, determination clear on his face. "Yes."

I tilted my head to the side, peering up at him. "Okay." I sighed again, rubbing my bare arm absently. "I'll help you get in and out of Atlanta, then. You seem like a decent guy and I hate to see the remaining number of survivors drop even more." I narrowed my eyes at him. "But the horse has got to go."

The Sheriff gaped down at me but quickly scrambled down from the horse, gathering his things before nudging the horse into the forest. I watched it go with a measure of sadness. It'd probably end up being Walker food but at the end of the day, I'd rather it was than I was.

"Thank you," the man said to me sincerely.

I gave a shrug, uncomfortable with the thanks. "Don't mention it," I said dismissively. "So, what's your name, Sheriff?"

"Rick," he introduced himself, thrusting out a hand. "Rick Grimes."

I took his hand, shaking it with a small smile. "Pleased to meet ya. I'm Elena Llewellyn."

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked as we started our trek down the road to Atlanta.

"Not even slightly," I stated cheerfully. "I lived in Wales over in the UK until I was sixteen." I shot him a warning look. "Don't ask me if Wales is a part of England or I'm liable to punch you." I flashed a brilliant smile before giving a little shrug. "But yeah. When I was sixteen I moved to Roswell with my family. I've been in Georgia since. What 'bout you?"

"I've lived in Georgia all of my life," Rick said lightly. "Not always in the same part of Georgia, of course, but always in Georgia."

I nodded in acceptance and we lapsed into a surprisingly comfortable silence as we wandered down the road. I craned my head up to squint at the sky. It was starting to get darker. I glanced around with pursed lips, running my hand through my hair again.

"We'll need to find somewhere to stay soon," I said after another half an hour of silent walking. "It'll be dark soon."

Rick nodded, looking around the road. "Any ideas?" I could tell he was reluctant to turn to me for answers, but I got the feeling he wasn't really used to how the world was. I, on the other hand, had adapted to survive in the new world.

I hummed quietly to myself, straining my eyes to try to see further down the road. "We've got about half an hour before we need to hole up somewhere," I murmured, rubbing the back of my neck. "We'll keep down this road for twenty minutes and if we can't find anywhere, we'll have to try the trees."

"Trees?" Rick echoed, shooting me a surprised glance.

"Trees," I affirmed. "They're high up, safely out of the reach from Walkers. Not the most comfortable place to sleep, but comfort's pretty rare these days anyway, and it's safer than the road or the forest floor."

Rick nodded a little and we continued on in silence. His footsteps were loud in the quiet of the dusk but I didn't say anything. Footsteps wouldn't be loud enough to attract any nearby Walkers, so we were safe.

We were lucky to find an abandoned building ten minutes in. It looked like an old farm house of sorts. Rick pointed it out to me and we agreed to go take a sweep through to make sure the building was clear before settling in for the night. The last thing we needed was a Walker popping up out of nowhere.

I handed Rick my knife after a quiet debate. I didn't want him using the gun; any Walker nearby would run towards the noise, and that was definitely not good. I was fine with my bow and if I needed to get a little closer, I could always just stab a Walker with an arrow. Rick didn't want to see me without the protection of my knife, but my bow was more than sufficient and, best of all, it was quiet.

"We should stay together when we go in," Rick muttered as we prepared ourselves to enter the farm house.

I frowned over at him. Splitting up would get the sweep done much quicker, but it had taken long enough to get him to agree to let me give him my knife for the time being. He was a stubborn man, I could tell, and we didn't have time to argue again. The last light of the day was quickly slipping away so we needed to get inside, quickly.

"Alright," I agreed reluctantly. "Ready?"

"Ready," he replied softly.

_Well, here we go then. _

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**Reviews are love!**

**~Chloe**


	2. Watches & Walkers

**_Title: _**_Let Go, Lay To Rest  
__**Rating: **__T for language, violence and gore.  
__**Summary: **__"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." Elena's gotten good at surviving through the impossible, and the end of the world is no different. A little helping hand wouldn't be a bad thing, though.  
__**Disclaimer:**__ I am in no way affiliated with AMC, The Walking Dead or its cast. I only own Elena.  
__**Author's Notes: **__Thank you for the reviews for the last chapter! Here's chapter 2; I hope you enjoy it!_

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**_Previously on Let Go, Lay To Rest..._**

"We should stay together when we go in," Rick muttered as we prepared ourselves to enter the farm house.

I frowned over at him. Splitting up would get the sweep done much quicker, but it had taken long enough to get him to agree to let me give him my knife for the time being. He was a stubborn man, I could tell, and we didn't have time to argue again. The last light of the day was quickly slipping away so we needed to get inside, quickly.

"Alright," I agreed reluctantly. "Ready?"

"Ready," he replied softly.

_Well, here we go then. _

**2. Watches & Walkers**

I took a fortifying breath and nudged the door open slowly, stepping inside after Rick. I had an arrow nocked and my bow was raised, ready to let an arrow fly at a moment's notice. We swept through the bottom floor quickly – it was made up of only two rooms; a kitchen and a living room. There were no Walkers downstairs so after some silent gestures, we headed up the stairs. There were no Walkers upstairs, either, and I was unsure how to feel about it.

I was glad, of course, that there were no Walkers to deal with, but it was rare to come across anywhere without a Walker lingering somewhere and the lack of the undead made me uneasy. I pushed those feelings resolutely away, however, and led Rick back down to the living room. The windows were already boarded up so we quickly settled down on the dusty sofas in the room.

I pulled out my half empty tin of pears and offered some to the Sheriff. He took them with a murmured thanks and I set about finding something a little more substantial to eat before we settled in for the night. I eventually settled on two tins of ravioli. I slid one over to Rick silently, followed by a plastic fork, before opening my own and digging in. We spoke a little as we ate, mostly of trivial things to keep ourselves distracted from the harsh reality outside.

"I'll keep watch," I offered, shifting slightly on the sofa when we had both finished eating. "I slept pretty well last night so I'll be okay to keep a lookout for the night."

"Are you sure?" he asked uncertainly, pulling off his hat to run a hand over his hair.

I nodded wordlessly. Truthfully, I wasn't comfortable enough with Rick to sleep with him there, and I was too awake to try and get sleep regardless. After some persuasion, I managed to convince the older man to get some rest while I kept watch. I waited for him to drift off to sleep, sprawled out on one of the sofas, before heading out of the farm house, sitting down on the porch with my knife by my side and my bow in my hands.

I stared out at the road silently, letting my thoughts drift. I was still a little surprised by my own offer to help Rick get in and out of Atlanta. I couldn't really identify my motives for doing so, either. I had nothing to gain by returning to the city; in fact, I had more to lose than anything.

If I was being honest, a lot of it was because I could relate to Rick's situation. When the outbreak had first hit, my entire being had been focused on finding my family and keeping them safe. I hadn't arrived in time to save my parents, but I had found my brother and we had stuck together for the weeks following the outbreak, until he got bit.

I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, fighting away the onslaught of memories that threatened to overwhelm me. It was bad enough they haunted my sleep; they had no business interrupting my waking thoughts, too. I sighed and opened my eyes again, staring out into the darkness. I resolved to do anything I could to help Rick find his family. I knew how much it meant just to know their fate, regardless of whether or not they were alive anymore. The Sheriff seemed like he was a decent person, despite the new world we were living in, and something about him made me want to help him.

I lifted my eyes to gaze up at the clear sky, smiling slightly at the stars that twinkled down at me. Perhaps it was silly, but I had formed a deep attachment to the stars after the world had gone to shit. They were the only constant; even if you couldn't always see them, they were always there and always would be. They were something I could depend on, in a way. No matter what happened, the stars would always, always be there in a way people couldn't be.

I traced my fingers over the smooth material of my bow, almost caressing it as I returned to scouring the surrounding area. I shifted constantly in place before eventually standing. I circled the house quietly, hyper aware of every little sound I could pick up. No Walkers appeared out of the darkness but I managed to shoot down two squirrels from the trees. I took them back around to the front of the house and settled down on the porch once more.

I quickly skinned and gutted the squirrels, preparing them. We could cook them for breakfast when Rick woke up. We would need something more substantial than tinned ravioli if we were heading into Atlanta and while the squirrels weren't exactly ideal, they'd offer some protein and something a little more filling.

I spent the rest of the night alternating between sitting on the porch and circling the farm house. My eyes started to feel heavy as the sun was breaching the horizon, but I firmly pushed any tiredness away. I was used to the exhaustion I constantly felt. I either couldn't sleep, too afraid of what nightmares would greet me if I allowed myself to drift off, or the nightmares would interrupt whatever sleep I had.

I was coming back from one final circle of the farm house when Rick came out onto the porch. I smiled, giving a slight wave as he spotted me. He waved back and I noticed the relief on his face when he saw I was still there. I came to a stop in front of the porch, tilting my head back to meet his gaze.

"You stayed on watch all night?" he questioned, sounding surprised.

I gave a small shrug but nodded. "Yeah. I wasn't tired so I didn't see the point in waking you up."

Rick frowned but nodded in acceptance after a moment. He pulled off his hat to run his hand over his hair before replacing it again. A small smile quirked on my lips as I noted the action, but I didn't comment. We all had our nervous ticks, after all.

"C'mon," I instructed gently, nodding at the house. "I killed some squirrels we can eat for breakfast and then we can head off to the city."

Rick agreed with a murmur and turned, heading back into the farm house. I followed after him, scooping up the squirrels as I went. I quickly set up a small fire inside the house, ignoring the potential dangers of a house fire. I cooked the squirrels with an ease that came with doing this sort of thing a hundred times before putting the fire out and handing Rick his own breakfast.

"Bon appetite," I declared quietly, digging into my squirrel as Rick did the same.

We struck up another trivial conversation while we ate, both of us content to ignore the impending trip to Atlanta. I could feel dread settle in my stomach, heavy and thick, but I pushed that away in favour of keeping the conversation light. Rick was clearly eager to get on the road but I was reluctant to leave the temporary safety of the farm house.

Eventually, though, it was time to go. I double checked everything I needed was in my pack before shouldering it and my quiver of arrows. I was clutching my bow in my hand, having given Rick my knife once again. We left the house in a companionable silence, starting down the road that led to Atlanta.

We got about twenty minutes in when Rick started talking again and I indulged him, remaining constantly aware of my surroundings in case our voices attracted any attention. We got to know each other on the way to Atlanta; Rick told me about his wife and son, showing me a photograph of the three of them together. He spoke a little about his life as a Deputy Sheriff before the outbreak. He told me about how he had woken up in the hospital to find dead people walking the streets and his house abandoned, leaving him completely confused and disorientated. When he finished speaking, I felt it only right I share a little information about myself with him.

I told him about growing up in Wales, spending time learning how to live off the land as well as doing work on the farm where I lived with my little brother. I talked about moving to Georgia and getting the chance to start again. I spoke about my jobs, one as an archery instructor on weekends and the other as a mechanic in my father's shop. I talked a little about my parents and some of the close friends I had made, but I didn't mention my brother much at all; Danny's loss was still too fresh, too painful to discuss.

By the time we had finished trading our stories, Atlanta was within view. The sight of the city gave me shivers but Rick seemed to be unaware of the dire state of the city. I couldn't keep my eyes off of the rows and rows of cars trying to leave the city but Rick just kept his eyes fixed on Atlanta, walking confidently into the city.

"Rick, we should stick to the alleys," I hissed at him as he headed down a seemingly deserted street. "Streets like this aren't safe."

It seemed almost as if he couldn't hear me, silently continuing down the street. I swore under my breath but followed after him, keeping an eye out for any Walkers. The few that filtered into the street were taken down quickly and quietly and I hurried to retrieve my arrows before running down the street to fall into step with the Sheriff.

"This isn't safe," I whispered harshly to him again, grabbing his arm.

He stopped in place, looking at me with such a broken look I couldn't help but let my hand fall back to my side. Nodding to me, he set off down the street again and I followed after once more, taking down whatever Walkers got too close. We turned a corner only to come to an abrupt stop. I swallowed back the urge to gag as we stared down at a street packed with Walkers. The smell wasn't something I was used to yet and with so many of the dead crowding the street it was almost overwhelming.

"Come on!" I snarled at my companion, grabbing his arm and tugging him with me as we sprinted down the street.

I didn't know where to go. Every corner we turned seemed to turn up only more Walkers and no escape. Rick pointed out a tank to me, stranded in the middle of the road and I nodded as we headed over to it. There were so many Walkers that my bow would be no use; I couldn't make a dent in the numbers and most of them were too close for me to use the bow effectively anyway. I was struck by a sudden idea as we stumbled towards the tank.

"Cover me!" I called to Rick as I shrugged off my pack, rummaging around in it briefly.

I pulled out a firecracker, ignoring Rick's surprised look, quickly followed by retrieving the box of matches I kept to start fires. I started violently when I heard a gunshot let off and swore loudly, knowing Rick had reverted to the gun despite my warnings. I fumbled with the matches, pulling one out and setting it alight. I lit the end of the firecracker and threw it, watching as it soared through the air to land on the ground a little way away from the tank.

Rick and I pressed up against the tank before he instructed me to get under it. Shooting him an incredulous look, I nonetheless did what he said and crawled underneath, aware of him doing the same beside me. He shot another few Walkers just as the firecracker went off, the noise echoing loudly and drawing the attention of a lot of the Walkers nearby. It was useless with the ones pursuing us under the tank, however; they could see and smell us, and were less inclined to get distracted from their meal.

It quickly seemed hopeless as we crawled forward and I inwardly apologised to my brother, swallowing heavily as I withdrew my own pistol. I flicked off the safety and let off a few shots myself; they were already going to follow us and I was going to take down as many of the dead with me as I could. Just when everything seemed hopeless, Rick nudged me and jerked his head up. I followed his gaze and saw the opening leading into the tank.

Feeling oddly boneless, I clambered up inside the tank, Rick close behind me. I heaved a few breaths, trying to regain control of myself, before noticing the corpse beside me. I took my knife from Rick wordlessly and stabbed the thing in the head; it was better to be safe than sorry, after all.

I slumped against the side of the tank, half leaning on Rick as he rested some of his weight on me. Both of our breaths were coming in harsh pants, almost in sync as we tried to get our breath back again.

"If I die in this tank, I'm gonna kill you, Sheriff," I gasped out, a weak smile on my face.

Rick looked to me, despair clear in his expression. "I'm so sorry, Elena," he choked out, tears shimmering in his eyes. "I should never have let you come with me. I should have believed you when you said Atlanta was overrun. This is-"

I cut him off with a sharp jab to his ribs. "Shut up," I said bluntly. "It was my decision to come along with you. This isn't your fault." I slumped over a little, letting my gaze drift to the ceiling. "I knew this was a suicide mission when I said I'd help you out."

"Then why'd you come?" he demanded, guilt and confusion plain in his expression.

"I'm tired, Rick," I admitted softly to the roof of the tank. "Tired of this. I don't have any reason to keep going other than pure stubbornness, and, well, my stubbornness has pretty much run out now. I don't have anything or anyone. It's just me left, and I'm so fucking tired. I figured – I figured if I came with you I could help someone out and, I don't know. Sacrifice myself, I guess, so you could find your family and my death would mean something."

And there it was. The real reason I had offered to come with Rick to Atlanta. I didn't want to die, far from it, but there was nothing left for me anymore. My family, my friends. They were all gone. I wanted to live, but I had nothing left to live for and that kind of thing – that ate away at people. It had eaten away at me. I didn't want to die but I figured if it was going to happen, I wanted it to happen like this. I wanted my death to help save someone else.

Rick twisted, grabbing me by the shoulders as he lowered his head so our eyes were level. "Listen to me," he snapped, suddenly furious. "You are not going to die here. Neither of us is. We'll figure something out. I'm not going to let you die for me."

I blinked at him, eyes wide and confused. "Why do you care?" I wasn't being mean, or harsh. It was a genuine question. I didn't understand why a man I'd known all of two days cared if I lived or died. We were nothing to each other, not really. I was just some woman he'd bumped into on the road.

"You remind me of someone," he confessed after a moment of heavy silence. "And you're a good person, Elena. You don't deserve to die, and definitely not like this."

I gazed up at him, lips parting slightly in surprise as I tried to process what he had said. I swallowed audibly, licking my lips before muttering, "You don't know me well enough to say whether I'm a good person. I've done things a good person would never do."

"You helped out a stranger," Rick rebuked gently. "You helped me out, gave me food, taught me a little about the Walkers. You stayed when we came into the city and you didn't try to shoot me, or leave me for Walker food so you could get out."

My eyes widened as I protested, "I'd never do anything like that!"

Rick's smile was soft but a little smug. "Exactly," he murmured. "It never even crossed your mind to do something like that. You're a good person, no matter what you want to think about yourself."

I swallowed loudly again, feeling like I should say something but unsure of what I could possibly say. I bit my lip, brown eyes fixed on Rick's blue ones as I tried to think of something, anything, to break the heavy silence that settled around us. I cleared my throat quietly, wetting my lips once more.

"I-"

I was cut off as the radio inside the tank crackled to life suddenly. I jerked away from Rick, the silence shattering as someone spoke down the radio.

"Hey, you!" the voice hissed. "Dumbasses? Hey, you guys in the tank! Cosy in there?"

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**Reviews are love!**

**~Chloe**


	3. Escapes & Encounters

**_Title: _**_Let Go, Lay To Rest  
__**Rating: **__T for language, violence and gore.  
__**Summary: **__"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." Elena's gotten good at surviving through the impossible, and the end of the world is no different. A little helping hand wouldn't be a bad thing, though.  
__**Disclaimer:**__ I am in no way affiliated with AMC, The Walking Dead or its cast. I only own Elena.  
__**Author's Notes: **__I just realised the last chapter was all in italics -.-' I'm not sure why that happened so this doc is normal in both Word and on here, but it is. I've fixed it now, though, so let's hope it doesn't happen again! A lot of this chapter's dialogue was taken directly from S01E02 Guts. This'll be a theme for a few chapters since the first Season will be followed quite closely, but we'll start to veer away from that pretty quickly. Also, I'd like to know what you guys think about keeping Amy alive? I always really loved her character and I can't wait to introduce her to Elena, and I'd like to keep her alive. However, her death is a vital part of Andrea's changes through Season 2 so I'm a little unsure what to do. Your opinions on that would be amazing!_

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**_Previously on Let Go, Lay To Rest..._**

I swallowed loudly again, feeling like I should say something but unsure of what I could possibly say. I bit my lip, brown eyes fixed on Rick's blue ones as I tried to think of something, anything, to break the heavy silence that settled around us. I cleared my throat quietly, wetting my lips once more.

"I-"

I was cut off as the radio inside the tank crackled to life suddenly. I jerked away from Rick, the silence shattering as someone spoke down the radio.

"Hey, you!" the voice hissed. "Dumbasses? Hey, you guys in the tank! Cosy in there?"

**3. Escapes & Encounters**

Rick and I traded surprised but relieved looks before I scrambled over to the radio, almost tripping over myself in my hurry. I flailed around a little, completely lacking grace as I finally landed in an awkward heap in front of the radio. Rick snorted a little at me, making no effort to hide his relief and amusement. I glared at him without heat as I snatched at the radio.

"Hey, you alive in there?" the voice asked, sounding a little panicked.

I fumbled with the radio, unable to stop my smirk when Rick banged his head against one of the pipes inside the tank. It wasn't as easy to navigate through a tank as it would seem. Remembering myself, I turned back to the radio.

"Oh my God yes, yes we are," I blurted as I pressed the button down.

There was a sigh of relief. "There you are," the distorted voice came again. "You had me wondering."

Rick snatched the radio from my hands, ignoring the reproachful look I sent him. He gripped the radio so tightly his knuckles turned white, but I didn't say anything.

"Where are you?" he demanded of the man on the radio. "Are you outside? Can you see us right now?"

"Yeah, I can see you," the guy affirmed. "You're surrounded by Walkers. That's the bad news."

There's good news? I thought, arching an eyebrow.

Rick shot a look at me, the same thought mirrored in his expression as he asked the same question down the radio. There was a brief moment of crackly silence as I shifted closer to the radio held in Rick's hand.

"No," Radio Guy said softly.

"Look, whoever you are, I don't mind telling you I'm a little concerned in here," Rick replied almost instantly, not letting the lack of good news stop him from getting information, even as his expression dropped a little.

"Concerned is an understatement," I muttered under my breath.

Rick ignored me in favour of listening to Radio Guy.

"Oh man," Radio Guy said. "You should see it from over here. You'd be having a major freak-out."

I yanked the radio out of Rick's hand, snapping, "That makes me feel so much better about the situation, thank you, Mr Optimistic."

Rick heaved a put-upon sigh as he took the radio back. "Any advice for us in here?"

"Yeah, I'd say make a run for it," Radio Guy replied.

Rick shot me an incredulous look and continued talking with the guy on the radio while I considered the idea. It was very, very risky, but it could work. The firecracker was still going off outside and the Walkers would be distracted by the noise and movement of it. The question was, of course, if they would be distracted enough for us to get away.

Even as I thought this, the guy on the radio said pretty much the same thing. Most of the Walkers were focused on the firecracker at the moment, but it wouldn't last much longer and we needed to go. He asked what weapons we had and Rick scrambled over to where his gun was gone. I grabbed the swinging radio.

"I've got a bow with about forty arrows, a knife and a glock with plenty of ammo, but probably not enough time to change clips with the gun," I told the guy. Rick looked over at me and held up his gun, raising one finger as he pocketed something I couldn't see. "He has a baretta with one clip. That's 15 rounds."

"Make them count," Radio Guy instructed before telling us where to go after we left the tank.

"What's your name, Radio Guy?" I asked as Rick appeared to prepare himself.

"Haven't you been listening?" he hissed in reply. "You're running out of time."

"Jesus, sorry, sorry," I mumbled, dropping the radio.

Rick grabbed something that looked a little like a shovel before shooting me a look, clearly asking if I was ready. Frankly, I didn't think I would ever be ready but I didn't have much of choice. It was either escape the tank and hope for the best, or stay in the tank and slowly starve to death. I took a deep breath and nodded at Rick.

He pushed up the entrance/exit of the tank and clambered out, taking a moment to hit the one Walker still on the tank before popping out. I followed behind quickly, leaping off of the tank and onto the ground. I mentally thanked my mother for forcing me into gymnastics as I dropped and rolled; I had learned to control a fall. Rick was not so lucky and had collapsed to the floor with a groan.

I pulled myself to my feet before hauling Rick up and pulling him along. He withdrew his gun and started shooting Walkers without a care. I swore under my breath; the shots would just draw even more Walkers to us but before I could voice a complaint we were turning into an alley where an Asian man stood.

"Whoa not dead, not dead!" he rushed out as Rick's gun turned to him. "Come on!"

The guy turned and ran down the alley with Rick and I close on his heels. I pulled my knife out but Rick shook his head, firing at the Walkers that followed at us. The Asian man kept calling for us to pick up speed and I did so while tugging at Rick's arm to get him to follow. Radio Guy scrambled up a yellow ladder and I followed, stopping briefly when I realised Rick wasn't right behind me.

"Rick," I cried. "Come on!"

He shot a look up at me before climbing on the ladder. I heaved a sigh of relief and continued on up after Radio Guy. The moans of the Walkers below us faded a little as we got higher, coming to a stop on a matching yellow platform. It was crowded with the three of us on there but we squeezed on. I glared down at the mass of undead in the alley below us, hands tightening around my bow slightly.

I tuned back into the conversation in time for introductions.

"I'm Rick, and this is Elena," Rick said, offering his hand. "Thanks."

"Glenn," Radio Guy replied, taking Rick's hand and shaking it. "You're welcome." Glenn nodded at me as I murmured a quiet greeting, eyeing the Walkers surrounding the ladder.

"Well gentlemen," I started fake-cheerfully. "Looks like we better scurry on up since Walker boy down there has learned how to climb."

Rick snorted at me as Glenn shot me an incredulous look. I merely shrugged in reply and the three of us turned to the ladder stretching on up to the wall, leading to the roof.

"Bright side? It'll be the fall that kills us," Glenn stated, shooting us both a weak smile. "I'm a glass half full kinda guy."

"Yeah, I remember that from the tank," I muttered, following him up the ladder with Rick close behind.

The climb up was silent as the Walker's moans became background noise. By the time we reached the top, I was barely able to hear them. We moved along the roof in silence as well before coming to a bridge of sorts leading over to the next building. Glenn and Rick started up a conversation about the barricade in the alley as we crossed and moved quickly along this roof.

"Back at the tank, why'd you stick your neck out for us?" Rick asked the younger man as he pulled up an opening in the roof.

"Not that we're complaining," I added, smiling thinly at Glenn. "Definitely not complaining. No complaining here at all."

"I get it," Glenn assured me, giving me an odd look before throwing his pack down the opening and clambering in. "Call it a foolish, naïve hope that if I was that far up shit creek, somebody might do the same for me." He paused, shooting Rick and I a look before adding, "Guess I'm an even bigger dumbass than you two put together."

Glenn started climbing down as Rick and I traded unsure looks. He looked around the roof for a moment before gesturing for me to head down first. I adjusted my pack and quiver, pursing my lips before climbing down the ladder. Rick followed after me, shutting the opening behind him and casting us into half-darkness.

"Well," I mumbled as I climbed, "At least I won't have to worry about you staring at my arse, Glenn."

I heard Glenn make an indignant noise from below me and I giggled softly in reply, finally reaching the bottom and stepping away from the ladder. I flashed him a cheeky smile, holding my hands up in the universal 'I come in peace' gesture.

"I'm just joking with ya," I assured him with a wink as Rick stepped off the ladder and moved beside me.

The Sheriff shot me an amused look, causing my smile to widen. We took off through what was clearly an abandoned room, exiting through a fire exit as Glenn pulled out a walkie-talkie. We jogged down some steps but I came to an abrupt pause, spotting two Walkers and hearing Glenn claim there were four in the alley.

My smile slid off my face as I withdrew my bow and nocked an arrow, taking a moment to aim before shooting the nearest Walker as two lumbered towards us. The corpse dropped and it's companion quickly followed after. I pushed past Rick and Glenn to enter the alley proper. I yanked my arrows from the Walkers' heads, turning so I was looking down the corner at the other two Walkers. I nocked one of the arrows I had just picked up as the door burst open and two people burst out in riot gear, clutching bats in their hands.

They ran towards me and I whirled around, sighing slightly when they came to a sudden stop as they realised I was living. Glenn and Rick ran past both me and the two unknowns into the building and after a moment's hesitation, I followed after. The two people in riot gear came in behind me and I heard the door slam as I entered the new room.

I was instantly aware of the other two women in the room, one a pale blonde and the other a dark skinned woman. The blonde slammed Rick into a pile of what looked like cardboard, swearing she was going to kill him as she aimed a gun at his head. My bow came up without a thought as I pulled back the bowstring, ready to shoot the blonde in the head at a moment's notice.

"I suggest you lower your weapon," I said coldly, gaining the blonde's attention.

"Just chill out Andrea, back off," a man piped up.

I shot a glance over my shoulder to see it was one of the people who had been in the riot gear. He had brown hair and if I remembered correctly from hearing Glenn outside, he was called Morales. I frowned before swinging my eyes back around to the blonde, apparently Andrea. The dark skinned woman instructed her to ease up, eyes darting between me, Rick and Andrea.

Rick gave me a stern look which I returned with a cool gaze. I flexed my fingers slightly as the blonde scoffed incredulously.

"You're kidding me, right?" she snapped at the group at large, eyeing me with particular disgust before returning her gaze to Rick. "We're dead because of this asshole."

"Lower your fucking gun," I snarled in reply.

"Andrea, I said back the hell off," Morales insisted, stepping into Andrea's personal space.

There was a heavy pause where the only sound was everyone's laboured breathing. My eyes narrowed as I saw the blonde's face crumple a little, though I could feel my hear soften slightly. She was just scared, and that was emotion I was familiar with. Still, I didn't let up. Rick was the closest thing I had to a friend at this point, and I had promised myself I'd help him find his family. He being dead would be a little detrimental to that.

"Or pull the trigger," Morales suggested impatiently as he pulled off his riot gear.

Andrea relented, turning away as she dropped her hand back to her side. I mimicked her movements, returning my arrow to the quiver and lowering my bow. I had no intention of hurting anybody in the room unless the hurt me or Rick first. The blonde turned away, tears shining in her eyes before she swung abruptly back around to Rick.

"We're dead. All of us. Because of you," she accused, tears finally falling.

"Optimism seems to be a theme amongst you guys," I muttered softly, hearing Glenn snort a little beside me.

I took a moment to look at the other unknown in the room, discovering it was a bald man with dark skin. He, too, had stripped out of the riot gear. I turned back to Rick, finding his expression confused as he looked at the group.

"I don't understand," he stated.

The man in question sighed before grabbing Rick's arm. "Look, we came into the city to scavenge supplies," he said, leading Rick out of the room. I followed closely behind him, scowling at the blonde as I brushed by her. I could understand her fear and her reasons for pulling her gun, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

"Do you know what the key to scavenging is?" Morales asked Rick, giving him a little shove. "Surviving. You know the key to surviving? Sneaking in and out. Tiptoeing, not shooting up the streets like it's the O.K Corral."

We made our way into what seemed to be the front room of a department store and my eyes were instantly drawn to the clear doors. The others' voices faded as I zeroed in on the mass of Walkers up against the doors, slamming their hands against them in an attempt to get in. Some of them had picked up bricks and were smashing them against the doors. I could see cracks already splintering the glass and felt my stomach drop.

"Holy shit," I breathed, staring with wide eyes before scrambling back.

I grabbed Rick's arm and tugged him back with me so we were standing with the others. My grip tightening as we shared fearful looks and I shifted closer to him, feeling the hand wrapped around my bow shake with the intensity I gripped the weapon. I ignored the conversation going on again, instead looking around for an escape route of some sort. We needed to get the hell out of the store, and fast.

When no exit presented itself, I huffed in frustration and released Rick's arm only to yank my hand through my knotted hair.

"Hey T-Dog," Morales muttered, addressing the bald guy. I had to stop the slightly hysterical giggle from bubbling forth when I noticed the hat on his head. "Try that C.B. Can you contact the others?"

The C.B. started crackling as T-Dog fiddled with it.

"Others?" Rick repeated, looking to Morales.

"Our group," was his short reply as all attention turned to T-Dog.

He shook his head, frowning a little as he sighed out a breath. "Got no signal. Maybe the roof."

With eerie timing, a gunshot rang out from above. My eyes shot upwards instantly, raising my bow automatically though it was clear the gunshots weren't coming from inside. If I had to guess, I'd say it was coming from the roof.

"What the fuck is that?" I demanded, swinging my gaze back to the group.

"Is that Dixon?" Andrea asked in a panicked tone.

The other's started grumbling before weaving through the racks of clothes. Rick and I followed after a brief hesitation but trailed a little behind the rest.

"I'm sorry," the Sheriff muttered quietly to me.

I almost stopped in my confusion but kept going, shooting him a sideways glance. "For what?"

"Shooting," he said guiltily. "You told me guns are loud, that they draw the Walkers and I shot anyway."

We jogged up some stairs, following behind the group of survivors we had encountered. I shook my head a little, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly.

"It's fine," I assured him, even though I had wanted to complain about him using his gun when he had pulled it out earlier. "It was an automatic response – I get it. You don't have to apologise to me."

Rick nodded but I could tell he was still troubled. I resolved to talk to him about it later but there wasn't time for it then. We burst onto the roof after the group and instantly zeroed in on the source of the shooting. My jaw dropped as I peered at the shooter.

"Merle?!"

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**Reviews are love!**

**~Chloe**


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